


The French Remake

by Bil_Norris23



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, The French Mistake, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:48:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bil_Norris23/pseuds/Bil_Norris23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other other side of the looking glass.  What happens to the actors when Sam and Dean take their place in the world of the Supernatural TV show.  Find out here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

*  
“OK guys, you can do this one. It’s perfectly safe, I assure you,” Bob says while a few feet away the crew sets up the crash pad below the window.  
  
“Bob, of course we can do it, but _should_ we be doing it? This is season 6, where are we going with this?” Jared asks while Jensen looks around the scenery, arms folded.

“Yeah, I got no problem with this one Bob,” Jensen says, stretching arms above his head, interlacing his fingers and cracking knuckles. “Eeeeyep,” he grunts out, a pleased smile on his face.  
  
“Of course you don’t,” Jared mutters to himself.  
  
Bob lets out a long suffering sigh and looks up over his glasses. “Look, fellas - this is network TV, not HBO. Please get on your marks again.”

Jared throws up his hands, then claps them to his side and wanders over to the mark.

Bob drifts off to the cameras, muttering and lowly slurping on a Diet Coke.  
  
“Sure, no problem,” Jensen says. Before heading toward his mark, he looks over to the make up artist and shouts, “Hey, you! HEY! A little touch-up, please. Just a bit of dusky sunset high up here,” he clarifies, pointing to his cheeks. He slowly closes his eyes and pouts out his lips while the artist flutters a brush across his face. After she holds a mirror up to show him, Jensen winks and says, “Great...that’s perfect. Thanks, hon,” and turns to wander back to his mark, leaving the make up artist to obliviously brush the air.  
  
“And somebody get that sock off Jared’s head please,” Bob gruffly commands.

A team of wranglers quickly surround Jared in a cloud of hairspray.

“Yeah, thanks, ok, that’s enough,” he smiles through clenched teeth. “I swear, I’m gonna shave my head over the break,” he mutters at their retreating forms.    
  
“Sebastian, s’il vou places,” Serge announces through a bull horn as he takes a seat. “Please to your mark.”  
  
“Righto Guv, jus’ gettin’ the blighty wound treatment,” Sebastian says in a gruff cockney, gingerly patting the fresh makeup on his side.  
  
“Places everyone!” Bob shouts, settling in his chair.  
“Action!”  
  
Coming to his mark, Sebastian clears his throat and in a genteel Queen’s speech says,“Hello boys, you’ve seen ‘the Godfather’, right?”  
  
Bob leans in to Serge and whispers, “Now that man is an actor.”

“Oui yes, refreshing no?” Serge whispers back, imperceptibly moving his head.  
  
Both look up to the jangle of the key flying through the air.  
  
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Jared asks, palming it dramatically.  
  
Bob leans back in, quietly croaking, “ _Very_.”  
  
“I said, run!” Sebastian yells as he pushes Jared and Jensen through the window.

 

  
*  
“Oh, sweet _Christ_ ,” Jensen says, rolling over on his side. “I think I broke my pancreas,” he groans, clutching his stomach.  Cracking open one eye, he sees Jared sitting up holding his knee close to his chest, wincing in pain letting out a slow “owwwwww.”  
  
“Skin your knee there Family Guy?” Jensen says. “Where the hell is the crash pad, anyway?” Looking around he notices the definite lack of crash pad, followed by a lack of cameras and a complete and utter lack of TV set.  
  
Scanning the area Jared looks up to the window frame and sees a familiar face.  
  
“What the hell man!?” Jared says.  
  
“ _Where_ the hell man!?” Jensen says, getting up to a crouch.  
  
“Sebastian, where is everybody?” Jared demands.  
  
Balthazar ducks as most of a wooden chair flies through the frame. A low “ _bugger_ ” is followed by flashing light and high pitched squeals emanating from the broken window.  
  
Jared crawls toward the opening, looking in to see familiar surroundings.“What the…” he says to the shattered remnants of a kitchen he recognizes all too well.

“Fuck,” Jensen says coming up behind him.  
  
A rumble approaches from the near distance, accompanied by the crackling of tires on gravel. Jared and Jensen turn, shielding their eyes from the high beams directed their way. A beat up late 70’s Ford truck pulls up and another familiar face emerges from the squeaking car door.

“Christ boys, I was only gone for 20 minutes. What have you done to my house now?”  
  
“Jim?” Jared asks, squinting in the lights from the truck.

“Yeah, right here,” Bobby says reaching into the large paper bag cradled on his hip. He pulls a fifth bottle out and tosses it to Jared who fumbles it to the ground, picks it up and sees the Jim Beam label.  
  
Bobby continues searching the bag and through the sound of crumpled paper and clinking bottles, he pulls out something and hands it to Jensen. “Careful, that’s still hot,” Bobby says. Jensen looks down to find a drive thru hot apple pie in his hand.

“Great, yeah Jim, that never gets old,” he mutters.  
  
“Seriously though, what’s happening?” Bobby asks as he slowly slips a hand behind his back. Not taking his eyes off Jensen, he whispers, “ _2 o’clock_.”

“Wait, what?” Jensen says spinning around to 7 o’clock.  
  
Directly behind him a man in a dark trench coat appears, lifting a hand up to Jensen’s head. Bobby pulls a blade from behind his back, dumps the bag and reaches to push Jensen to the side. Bobby stabs the darkness as he knocks Jensen to the ground.  
  
The man appears again in front of Jared, who drops the mickey of Jim Beam and steps back. Before Bobby can react Balthazar appears behind the man, his shirt ripped open to reveal bloody scribblings.“Oh my, this is going to hurt,” he says as he presses a hand to his chest. Light pours from both Balthazar and the dark trench-coated stranger, the brilliance radiating in a blinding circle around everyone.  
  
They are gone, leaving Jared, Jensen and Bobby squinting at each other in the gloom.  
  
“We gotta go!” Bobby commands, turning on his heels.  
  
“Cut, _stop_!” Jared says. “How did…” he looks around dumbfounded, not even sure where to start. “Jim, where are we? Where’s the crew, and the, the equipment!?”  
  
Bobby pauses a few paces ahead and turns, reaching into his hip pocket.  
  
“This is a Ben episode, isn’t it,” Jensen interjects, getting up and shaking the dirt and grass from his shirt. “Hey, just great practical effects, but I get it -come on out guys!” he yells into the night. Beginning to smile, he turns and is met with a face full of water.

He splutters in surprise, wiping at his face and spitting out drops of warm water. Jensen stares down at his hands and notices a bit of faded pink on the ends of his fingers. Dusky sunset slipping through his fingers he yells, “Dammit,” waving his stained fingers in Bobby’s face, “you ruined my make up. ”  
  
Bobby ignores him, grabbing the hand to reach across and cut his forearm.  
  
“AH, Jesus!” Jensen yells, as he shakes him off. “You just _cut_ me!” Clutching his arm, he scowls at Bobby. “Not cool, Jim!”  
  
Stepping away, Bobby squints and asks “Sam, Dean..what is wrong with you idjits? And who the hell is Jim?”  
  
Jared looks from Bobby to Jensen, eyes narrowing.  
  
“It’s a prank, and you’re in on it too!” Jared accuses, pointing at Jensen. He reaches over and runs a finger across Jensen’s wound, holding the red smudge up to his nose. “See, FAKE!” he laughs. “Ha ha. Real good guys,” he says and turns to the trees at the edge of the yard with a grin. “I think I know a prop knife and fake blood when I…” Jared sticks the bloody finger in his mouth, “… see it,” he finishes with a dawning look of horror. He turns to spit and is hit in the face with water from Bobby’s flask.  
  
“Quit it!” Jared spits out, holding a fist up to stop what’s surely coming next.  
  
Bobby looks from Jared to Jensen and, seeming satisfied, he stows the flask.

“Just get in the car and follow me, we can figure this out on the way,” Bobby says as he stashes the knife.  
  
“On the way where?” Jensen asks.  
  
“Any damn where else,” Bobby growls, running back to his truck. “Come on, move it you two!”  
  
Jared looks over at Jensen, who just shrugs. They shuffle towards the Impala parked directly next to Bobby’s pick-up. Bobby slides in and starts the engine, waiting.  
  
Jensen settles in behind the wheel as Jared slumps onto the bench on the passenger side. Looking down Jensen mutters, “Where’s the key?” He looks over at Jared who - with a sigh, and in one seemingly well practiced movement - rolls his eyes up and the window down.  
  
“HEY! NO KEY!” Jared shouts over to Bobby over the sound of the truck’s motor.

Bobby sticks his head out the window. “Well, did you check your damn pocket?!” he shouts, shaking his head with a muttered,“Christ.”  
  
Jensen reaches into his pocket, surprised at finding the Impala’s keys. He grins and lets out a little sound of triumph. As he reaches towards the steering wheel, the grin slips from his face and is replaced with a look of confusion. His hands hover uncertainly.  
  
“What?” Jared asks lifting his eyebrows in an increasingly maniacal expression of frustration.  
  
“I, uh, I don’t actually,” Jensen stammers “know, exactly - I mean that is it’s been awhile,” he continues uncomfortably, shifting in his seat.  
  
“WHAT?” Jared interrupts, already knowing the answer.  
  
“Well, do you remember the last time you drove a car?” Jensen asks.  
  
Jared’s eyebrows fall into a slow furrow as he turns and sticks his head out the window. “YEAH, uh, NO KEYS,” he hollers over to Bobby.  
  
“BALLS!”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Jammed into the middle seat of the truck between Jared and Bobby, Jensen looks around the cab noticing vaguely familiar esoteric symbols scrawled into the dash and ceiling as light from passing cars pours in.  Uncomfortably clamping his legs together so Bobby can shift, he asks, “What’s with the method acting Jim?” looking up while circling his finger in the air.

Bobby exhales, slowly puffing out his cheeks. “Look, Dean, I don’t know who you think I am, or what the hell all that was back at the house, but it’s me son, it’s Bobby.”  He turns to Jensen, face straining for any sign of recognition from the other.  

“Bobby.  So you’re Bobby?  And I’m,” Jensen says, attempting to scoot against Jared limply pointing to himself, “I’m Dean?” 

Jensen and Jared exchange concerned glances.  Bobby gives them a slow sideways look before turning his attention back to the road.

Clearing his throat Jared asks, “Ahem, so, Bobby” he coughs, glancing over at Jensen who is looking straight ahead at the road, “Yeah, uh, Bobby where are we going exactly?”

“Well, I figure we’ll head to a motel out on 51, grab a room and try and get a hold of Cas,”  Bobby says.  “He’s our best shot, if he’s still alive.”

*

Walking into the hotel room early the next morning, Jared and Jensen look around suspiciously.  Bobby comes in behind them carrying a duffle bag bulging with nefarious clumps of herbs, grimy books and knives. 

“Seems smaller somehow,” Jensen says looking around the room and turning to Jared, who gives an agreeing shrug.

Bobby crosses the room, tosses the bag on the bed and reaches up to pull the battery out of the smoke detector, which is already missing. 

“Gotta love a flea bag,” Bobby says to Jared. 

Motioning to the bag he says, “Let’s set up that conference call, Sam get the horehound and the Tibetan smudge bowl out.”

“Whore who?” Jared asks raising an eyebrow.  He looks to Jensen, who is attempting to covertly wipe the last vestiges of sunset off his face in the mirror.

“Hore - hound, never mind I got it,” Bobby says.  

Reaching into his bag Bobby pulls out a few clumps of dried herbs, a small plastic baggie containing some kind of pink powder, the aforementioned bowl, three white half burned emergency candles, and a box of strike anywhere matches.  Bobby begins adding the ingredients to the bowl as Jared looks on.

“No need for all that,” Balthazar says appearing behind Bobby.  Jensen spins around startled, “How are you doing that!?” he says wiping his hand on his jeans as Bobby turns to Balthazar. 

“What is going on, and what’s with Tweedle Dum and Dumber here?” Bobby asks Balthazar shaking a finger between Jensen and Jared. 

“Well now, as I explained to Sam and Dean earlier Raphael is attempting to take out all his enemies in one fell swoop,” Balthazar begins.  “Castiel and myself are trying to stay one step ahead, but he insists on protecting mortals as well,” he groans, leaning against the dresser, “which puts me in the unenviable position of playing an inter-dimensional shell game.”

“You really do like to hear yourself talk,” Bobby says.  “So why don’t they know that, or even who the hell anyone is?” 

“Oh easy, that’s not Sam and Dean,” Balthazar states flatly. 

Jared and Jensen look to Bobby uncomfortably, confirming the fact with their every movement. 

 “Granted, they do look like them, which is the brilliant part if I do say so myself…”

“Wait, what!?”  Bobby interjects, reaching into his bag for a knife.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah!”  Jared yells backing up. 

“No need for all that tension,” Balthazar says as the door to the bathroom slams shut behind Jensen. 

“It’s not as if they’re evil twins or anything, look no goatees.” Balthazar says pointing to Jared who unconsciously grabs his chin. 

“They’re not Sam and Dean, but they do play them on TV,” Balthazar explains “You see, I sent our Sam and Dean into their dimension at a point of convergence, which in turn brought them through into ours.”  

Bobby looks to Jared, “You’re not Sam then?”

“No, sorry,” Jared says. 

“Well, who are you?” Bobby asks.

“Jared, Jared Padalecki,” he answers sticking his hand out. 

“The kid from Jerry Maguire?” Bobby asks, seeming impressed. 

“No, that’s uh, that’s somebody else,” Jared answers, returning the hand to his jacket pocket. 

“You can come out now poppet,” Balthazar teases through the bathroom door. 

Jensen comes out, wringing a towel between his hands, “Yeah I, I uh, just really had to go,” he says as tossing the towel on the floor. 

“And he’s an actor?” Bobby asks Balthazar. 

“Hi, I’m Jensen.” 

“Oh come on! That’s not even a name!” Bobby argues. 

“Like I said, alternate dimension,” Balthazar offers with a shrug. 

“Alternate dimension?” Jared asks.  “So you’re saying this is an alternate dimension where our show is real?  You’re fake Bobby,” pointing to Bobby “and you’re Battlestar?” pointing to Balthazar. 

“Balthazar,” Jensen and Balthazar say simultaneously. 

Balthazar purses his lips in surprise and gives Jensen an appreciative nod, to which he abashedly shifts his gaze while weakly lifting a hand of acknowledgement to him through tightly crossed arms. 

“And who’s fake, fake Sam!?” Bobby demands accusingly. 

“This is a, a dream, or a, uh hallucination,” Jared starts muttering to himself. 

“I just figure I took too much Ambien again,” Jensen interrupts.  “Not the first time I’ve had dreams like this,” he finishes, stealing a glance at Balthazar. 

“So you’re saying that this isn’t Sam and Dean, these are the actors who play Sam and Dean on TV in another dimension,” Bobby says breaking down the situation.  “What’s the show then?” he asks. -

“Supernatural,” Jensen explains.  “We play Dean and Sam Winchester, we hunt monsters and protect people, or we did in the first couple seasons,” Jensen finishes then looks to Jared.

“Yeah, but now we mostly talk to Angels,” Jared says, finishing under his breath “Sam and Dean.”

“Ahem,” Balthazar breaks in, “I’ve got a job for you two, and I need you to bring you’re “A” game.  We’re talking Emmys here, not People’s Choice.”

“I’ve sent _our_ Sam and Dean in to your universe with precious cargo that they are charged with keeping out of Raphael’s hands,” he continues.

“Right, the key to Heaven’s armory,” Jensen interjects.

They all turn to look at him.  Balthazar asks “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s in the script,” he explains looking over to Jared, “right?”

Jared crosses his arms, flipping hair out of his eyes, “Right, right, course it is.”

Jensen stares blankly, “I knew it, you only read your lines don’t you?” 

“What, no, that’s ridiculous,” Jared answers without looking at Jensen. “The key, for the lock and the thing, I got it,” turning to Balthazar “What do you expect us to do, we’re just the actors, we don’t know karate or anything?”

“You do remember my _earlier_ remark about the shell game?” Balthazar answers. Gesturing to Jared and Jensen he continues “I just need you to be Sam and Dean," Balthazar turns his head, hearing something the others can't. "And I need you to take this," he says taking a key from his pocket.  He begins handing it to Jared, reconsiders, then hands it to Jensen who slides it into his pocket with a smirk.  "Time to go, he's here." 

"He who?" Bobby asks.

"Sorry, I'm fresh out of exposition," Balthazar answers pulling the three of them together.  "Just be back here in 36 hours." 


	3. Chapter 3

Finding themselves sitting in Bobby's truck, Jared and Jensen notice two men in overcoats lurking outside the door to their room.  

"Jeezus I hate that," Bobby groans rubbing the back of his neck and adjusting his hat.  

"This is where I take my leave gentlemen," Balthazar whispers, sticking his head through the sliding back glass, purposely close to Jensen.

"I've got a primrose path to lead brother Virgil on," pointing to the man at the door in the dark coat.  "Your mission, which you've no option but to accept, is to lead Homer on a merry chase for the next day and a half," he finishes pointing to the tall blond man in white next to Virgil.

"Homer, Virgil?" Jensen asks, "What's up with the names around here?"

"Just be back here then," Balthazar finishes, slowly extricating his head from the cab rubbing cheek to cheek with Jensen.  Jensen turns his head, catching the faintest hint of cinnamon before Balthazar vanishes.

Bringing their attention back to the two angels in front of them, they see the door to the motel room open just as Virgil attempts to kick it in, which sends him tumbling into the room.  The door slams shut, leaving Homer outside as pink light begins emanating from the window.

"That looks like a cue if I ever seen one," Bobby says starting the truck.  

Stomping the gas he heads straight for Homer.

 Jared reaches back and quickly gets a shoulder through the seat belt as Jensen braces his arms against the roof, eyes clamped shut.  

"Hold on fellas," Bobby says as he swerves just in front of Homer, sending gravel rocketing in his direction.  Fishtailing the truck, Bobby manages to send Homer a friendly middle finger as he rights the wheel and speeds out of the parking lot.

"That oughta do it," Bobby says smiling, reaching under the seat as he guns it down the highway.

"Great job uneasy rider," Jensen says prying his hands from the roof as Bobby slaps something on it.  

"Had that made up a while ago," he explains gesturing to the  magnetic decal covered in what looks like a cross between Hebrew and chicken scratch, "cause you never know.  Anyway, that'll keep him from dropping in on us.  Amazing what you can get at the flea market."

Homer turns as the truck begins to growl down the road.  Annoyed, noticing the dust all over his coat, he extends a hand toward them concentrating.

 "Clever," he says.  

Turning to the parking lot he stalks up to the only other vehicle, a Prius with Nebraska tags.  Instantly unlocking, the driver's side door flies open and he gets in, noticing a small stuffed zebra dangling from the rear view as he grabs the wheel.  The motor starts and he backs quickly out on to the road.  

 Spying this in the passenger mirror Jared says, "He's still on us, in the Prius."

Bobby and Jensen look to each other then over to Jared, "I think we can handle it," Bobby says smirking as he grips the wheel.  

"Dude, a Prius, really?" Jensen chuckles to himself.

"What?" Jared asks, "I'd have a Prius, it's the greenest car."

"Oh, you have got to get in to character here," Jensen says shaking his head.

" _Right_ , like you?" Jared asks furrowing brows, "Mr. _ALWAYS_ in character.  You know what?  Screw you Jensen, Sam would have a Prius too!"

"No way man, no brother of mine,"  Jensen catches himself then stutters "D-Dean, no brother of..."

"Would you two idjits please save your character development for later?" Bobby interrupts.  "Believe it or not that _Prius_ is gaining on us."

 Jensen and Jared spin around seeing the car's rapid approach.

"Some hybrid." Jensen states appreciatively.

Behind them, in the Prius, sits Homer one hand on the wheel the other on the dashboard.  His eyes rolled up glowing white, energy pouring through his fingertips into the vehicle.  NPR blaring over the stereo.   **"I"M... TERRY GROSS... AND... THIS... IS... ...FRESH AIR... TODAY WE'RE TALKING... ABOUT... ALPACAS."**

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Belching thunder down the highway, the truck begins to shimmy. Reaching top speed, pedal jammed nearly through the floor, Bobby yells over to Jared "Glove box!" giving a nod to below the passenger side dash.

Leaning forward quickly, the seat belt wrapped around Jared's shoulder snaps tight. "Dammit," he curses. Fumbling free, he gets the glove box open revealing loose paper, ketchup packets, and a black metal box.

"Yep, the box!" Bobby says reaching a hand out.

Jared grabs it then slams it into Bobby's hand.

Bobby sets it gingerly in his lap, giving Jared a pained look, then begins tracing circles along the lid with his middle finger, muttering to himself, " _aperire buxum hoc damnant."_

With a click that seems to come from everywhere at once, the lid pops open.  Bobby quickly reaches in and pulls out what looks like a grenade.

"Whoah!  Is that a friggin' GRENADE?!" Jensen shouts, scooting into Jared who starts to frantically roll down the window.

 Looking in the rear view Bobby puts the grenade up to his face, pulls the pin with his teeth, spits it out then says to Jensen, "Duck."

Blanching, Jensen complies butting his head against the dash.

Releasing the handle, still eyeing the angel in the rear view, Bobby starts counting, "3... 2..." then chucks it through the back window where it bounces off the tailgate, landing directly in front of the Prius.

Homer, seeing the object approach, attempts to swerve as it ignites a circle of flame around the car.  

Skidding sideways, the car continues through the flames as Homer is ripped through the drivers side door, trapped on the inside of what's proven to be a circle of flaming holy oil.  

The Prius, pushed beyond suggested manufacturer operating procedures, and now missing a door, careens off the side of the highway barrel rolling itself to pieces.  One of those pieces lands inside the circle directly in front of Homer, who sees the smoldering remains of a tiny stuffed zebra as he gets to his feet, jacket hopelessly ruined.

As the truck speeds away Bobby turns to Jared and Jensen smiling, "Holy hand grenade."

Jensen looks to Jared, who's eyebrows can't decide how they feel about the situation, then turns to Bobby and says "Cause you never know, right?" 

"Hated to use it, only one I had." Bobby chuckles, "Still, that should buy us a few hours space at least."

"Aren't we supposed to be leading him on a chase?" Jared asks.

"Way I figure it that chase was about to come to an abrupt and decisive end.  Besides, we won't lose the likes of him. This isn't some stunt angel, we gotta get some distance if we expect to make it."  Bobby explains.

"OK, so what now?" Jensen asks, "We just gonna head on down the highway, looking for adventure?"

"Highway, yes.  Adventure, that'll get ya killed quicker than week old tacos," Bobby explains as he backs slightly off the gas.  "We're going to get some road between us and him, when I figure we've lost him I'll drop the warding and let him catch a whiff of our trail.  He'll pop in and off we go again."

"That's, well, that's sort of a plan," Jared says.

"You have anything better?" Bobby asks.

Jared shifts in his seat, "Well, no, not exactly..."

"We need to talk to Cas," Jensen interrupts, "This whole thing is his idea."

Bobby and Jared turn to Jensen, both answer him with a "Huh," then they turn to stare at the highway.  After a few seconds of silence Bobby says, "Or that, I mean, I was going to say that." 

"Right, ok," Jensen replies.

"I'm still putting some pavement between us and Michael Landon first," Bobby insists as he floors it.

As the miles and hours roll by, and the mood in the cab grows calmer, Jensen tries to make conversation asking, "So, Bobby," Smiling to himself through the sheer weirdness of the situation, "You know us, and... and by US I mean our characters, pretty well right?"

 Bobby doesn't answer right away, but after a few moments of quiet contemplation and as Jensen can see by the low light of the setting sun on the horizon Bobby says with a sour look, "Yep."

"OK," Jensen continues, "So who do you think is the star of this show?"

"Wait, what?"  Jared interrupts.  "Are you seriously asking that question?  You are unbelievable."  He finishes with a groan.

"Like you don't want to know?" Jensen says to Jared.

Without answering, or even acknowledging the question. Bobby continues driving.

Another ten minutes goes by in which they all sit quietly. Too conscious of the question hanging in the air, Jared breaks the silence muttering mostly to himself, "You know it's me, the whole show is from Sam's perspective, everybody knows that." 

 Jensen swivels his head slowly from Jared, muttering to himself out the window, then to Bobby, stoically driving on into the coming night, finally saying "Oh come on!  You've got to have an opinion!" 

 Again, Bobby doesn't answer right away, but the faintest shadow of a smile creeps across his beard as he turns to Jensen simply saying, "Yep."

Not wanting to wait another ten minutes for an answer Jensen prods Bobby with an "And...?"

Jared turns his head slightly away from the window, cutting his eyes toward Jensen and Bobby. 

Adjusting his cap, definitely smiling, Bobby turns to the pair asking, _"What makes you think it's either one of you two?"_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

After a few hundred miles, a quiet fell over the occupants of the truck.  A quiet that was only marginally alleviated, if you could call it that, by interspersed bursts of flatulence and snoring coming in call and response sortie from an intermittently unconscious Jared and Jensen.

 Having about as much of this as he could stand, Bobby spots a sign for gas, food and lodging.  

"Two out of three ain't bad," Bobby says, purposefully loud enough to startle Jensen.

"Huh, what?" Jensen asks, snorting awake, face half covered in crumple marks from slumping over on Jared.  

"We need to get gas," Bobby explains.

"Uhhg, I think we got that covered," Jensen says, as Jared shifts against the door while making a noise not unlike air escaping a rapidly deflating balloon.

"Yeah we are definitely pulling off here," Bobby says taking the exit as he flips open the side window.

Pulling up to a pump at a combination White Castle, Long John's, Circle K Gas and Go Bobby reaches under the seat for his bag. Now awake and looking around dazed, Jared rubs his face groaning, "White Castle?"

"You do not need any White Castle, seriously," Jensen says waving a hand.

"Here, put this in your pocket," Bobby says handing small burlap bundles to Jared and Jensen.

"Potpourri?" Jared asks.

"No, not that I wouldn't kill for some right now, just put that in your pocket," Bobby wearily explains.  "Pit stop only.  I'm going in for coffee, you pump the gas," pointing to Jensen, "you, you need to check your shorts," pointing to Jared.

Smirking, Jensen gets out and circles the truck.  

"The side by the pump," Bobby calls over his shoulder, "idjit," he mutters as Jared sleepily follows him in to the Circle K.

"Right... RIGHT!"  Jensen calls back with a wave.  "I know that, everybody knows that," he continues scanning the side of the truck for the fuel door.

 Finding it, he fumbles the gas cap off, yanks the handle off the pump, and sticks it in.  

Staring at the numbers on the pump, which aren't moving, he squeezes the trigger on the pump handle repeatedly.  

"Come on man," he nervously whispers to himself as he pops up over the truck spotting Jared's head hovering over the aisles in the Circle K.

He hears a dull click at the pump.  Feeling gas surge into the handle, he slowly turns around to see Castiel standing next to him.

"Jesus!" Jensen yells, too loudly, taking a step back.

"No," Castiel answers, "You have to lift the, the thing," he continues, pointing to the lever below the unleaded gas slot.

"Right... RIGHT!" Jensen says, "I know that, everybody knows that."

Staring at Jensen, Castiel cocks his head, gruffly whispering, "You're not him, I know you're not him, but..." closing his eyes and lifting a hand he touches Jensen's face, index and middle finger pressed lightly to his temple.

Jensen slowly closes his eyes, hearing the thump of blood in his head over the splash of gasoline hitting the pavement.

"Oh shit!" he says, yanking away from the handle, splashing both of them as he shakes the gas off of his hand.

"Definitely not him," Cas says.

 "I could have told you that," Jensen and Cas turn and see Bobby standing next to the truck, with Jared approaching close behind, now wearing a stocking cap with a Circle K logo, carrying a plastic bag.

 "God, you look just like Misha," Jared says as he walks up.

"No," Castiel answers, "What's a Misha?"

"You are," Jensen starts, "I mean, he is Cas, he's the guy who plays you on the show, Misha."

"You really don't want to get them started,"  Bobby says.

"Misha," Castiel says.

"Miiiisssha," again, letting the word roll around a bit before letting it out.

"I don't care for it," Castiel decides.

 "And you are?" he asks.

"Jensen," Jensen says, then gestures to Jared, "Jared."

Castiel nods to both in turn, looking like he might be reconsidering the name Misha.

"That alternate universe is full a weird names," Bobby interjects, "What's our move here Cas?"

"Homer is catching up to you,"  Cas answers turning his head, hearing something the others can't.

"I need that key," placing a hand on Jensen's shoulder he finishes,  "and your help." 

"Yeah I know, that's what we're doing, keeping Home boy off your trail," Jensen says,

"Homer," Cas corrects him as he leads him away from the truck.

"What are we doing then?"  Jared asks as Castiel walks Jensen across the parking lot toward a phone booth.

"Keep Homer distracted," Cas shouts back as he leads Jensen in to the booth.  "We'll meet up with you at the motel."

"Dude, where are we going?" Jensen asks as Cas crowds in behind him, grabbing the receiver off the hook.

"Heaven," he grunts, as he dials 7-7-7.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Swallowed in white, not light but an endless nothing, a droning thump keeps time in Jensen's head.  Slowly the pitch increases, as does the rhythm, until the thump becomes a steady high sonorous note.  

Gradually a kite comes in to focus in the distance.  

Following it's dance across the nothing the kite paints a dreary sky in it's wake.  

Slowly the background appears through the nothing, appearing first as a haze then as through cheese cloth.  

Eventually coalescing as a green space, a park.  A park, whose single occupant was this eternal kite.  

The note ends as Castiel asks, "Are you alright? The journey can be disorienting."

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, tears squeezing out of the corner of his eyes Jensen answers, "Uh huh, I'm... I'm fine."

"Good, I don't usually have to come in that way, but with Raphael's agents on guard I had to glide in slow through the astral plane," Cas explains.

"It sure felt like astral glide," Jensen says rubbing his face, then asks, looking around "Where are we, exactly?"  

"We are exactly in Heaven," Cas explains, "Unfortunately we are specifically somewhere they'll be watching."

The sky flashes red as he finishes.  

Jensen looks back up to find the kite in flames. Making dizzy tight loops it disappears on the horizon, becoming ash on the wind.

"We're going," Cas says, grabbing Jensen by the shoulder a blade appears in his other hand.  Lashing out with the blade, a rip appears in front of them spilling white nothing in to the sky.  Pulling Jensen against him, one arm wrapped firmly from behind, Cas pushes them both through the rip.

 After a brief trip through oblivion, they tumble in to night, landing in brush.

 Neither moves. Clutched together in the bushes Cas puts a hand over Jensen's mouth, then whispers in his ear, "Don't move, don't make a sound, I have to check if we were followed."  Moving his hand away, Cas closes his eyes and goes still.  Jensen feels him go suddenly rigid pressed against his back, inert as a statue, not even breathing.  The only noise he can hear, the hammering of his own heart

Losing track of the heartbeats, Cas finally stirs, whispering, "OK, I think we're ok."

Slowly, they both scramble to their feet.

Noticing a light in the distance Jensen whispers back, "Except for that," pointing toward what appears to be a small fire bobbing towards them through the tree line.

Cas takes a defensive stance, pushing Jensen behind him, one hand pressed against his chest as he raises his blade with the other.

 The light continues it's approach, revealing itself as a torch held by a hooded figure.  The figure gets within ten feet, stops then asks, "Friend?"

"Yes, is that you General?" Cas responds, keeping his blade at the ready.

"Identifying code please," the figure demands.

"776," Cas says , relaxing.

"711 welcomes you friend," the figure responds, lowering the hood while closing the distance.

As Cas steps forward to take the man's hand, a dozen lights spring into the night.

 A group of men approaches from the nearby trees where they've been waiting to hear the outcome of this meeting.  Their lanterns casting light into the darkness begin to reveal the profile of the mysterious strangers, leaving Jensen dumbfounded.

"You're, you're!" he says to the man grasping Cas' hand, then turning to the group approaching, "and you're, you're!" 

"Yes?" the man asks.

"You're all on money..." Jensen whispers.

Spinning around to Cas, Jensen hisses "these are the money guys!"

"I beg your pardon sir?" the nearest approaching man asks.  Removing his hood as he walks up to Jensen, he reveals a broad framed man of late middle age, wearing small wire rimmed glasses, behind which sparkled eyes expressing equal parts intelligence and bemusement.

"Ben... Benjamin freaking!" Jensen stammers, pointing.

"Franklin, pleased to meet you," the man finishes, offering a hand.  

Jensen stares at the hand.

"And you're, you're!" Jensen says spinning around to the man next to Cas, pointing.

"Yes, yes, do please call me George."

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Cas asks, interrupting Jensen's fit of bewildered pointing and stammering.

"Indeed, off to the tavern," George replies, "Back to base!" he says the others.

Cas walks back to Jensen as the group starts to move past him.  "We need to go with them," he explains to Jensen.

 Shaking his head, still pointing, though now at Cas, "What?" he asks, pointing now at the quickly retreating sons of liberty.  "What?"

"Where." Cas says, "I'll explain when we get to the Elysium." 

 

 

 


End file.
